The Little Mermaid Revisited
by LovelyLytton
Summary: Takeshi during babysitting duty. Airmailverse.


**The Little Mermaid Revisited**

A/N: Written as a part of Fluffy February and also submitted for **sm_monthly**, theme "myths/fairy tales", prompt "one thousand and one nights, Schehezerade, a story in a story". Set in the Airmailverse, contains spoilers for the whole fic plus epilogue and its companion pieces, _Item Number Seven_ and_ Already Gone_. The longer parts in italics are taken from Hans Christian Andersen's version of The Little Mermaid and were not written by me. Bubble The Flower however is my invention. For a darker version of The Little Mermaid, check out my 2010 ficathon piece.

* * *

Arms crossed in front of his chest, Takeshi looks sceptical, almost cross. "All I'm saying is that I do not think this is a good idea." Standing in the hall opposite each other, the two men are staring at each other as if this were an old western movie and it was high noon.  
Hiromasa, who is wearing a black sports jacket over his trademark plaid shirt, tries to make an encouraging facial expression. He fails and winds up looking amused instead. "It's going to be fine. You're going to be fine. Trust me."  
Takeshi frowns, and clearly doesn't. Why isn't Minako here? She'd be so much better at this.  
"Look, she's five years old and it's already eight o'clock. Makoto has tucked her in, and if she wakes up, which is not all that likely, then you'll read her a story and she'll be asleep within minutes. Piece of cake."  
"I still think you should call someone else. Someone who has more experience with children."

Makoto comes down the stairs then, lips painted pink and for once not in her café uniform of jeans, blouse, and ballet flats, but in a swinging lavender dress and heels instead. She's just clipping her earrings on and when she's sees Takeshi's face, she lets out an exasperated sigh. "Oh, not again. Takeshi, it'll be _fine_. All the important numbers are on the fridge, the blanky is next to Aiko's bed and she knows and - more importantly - likes you. You're her uncle Takeshi. You're her godfather, for crying out loud."  
That makes him smile a bit. His name was the first one Aiko learned to say properly, against all odds, one might add, because Ami and Ando are so much easier to pronounce. Hiromasa, feeling that victory is close, jumps in. "And hey: kids and dogs? Not so different!" Makoto gives her husband an incredulous look, but doesn't say anything: they'll talk about that on the way to the restaurant.  
"I'll make sure to tell your daughter you said that when she enters her teens," Takeshi remarks dryly and then with a last hug from Makoto and manly slap on the back from Hiromasa, the two of them are gone.

Spock and Attila are already fast asleep on the couch. Both pets are snoring, Spock louder than Attila, Takeshi is pleased to notice. With little regard for the canine beauty sleep, he wakes them and shoos them off to take their place. He has an inkling that this is going to be a long night.

Twenty minutes later, he is completely submerged in the plans for his newest building when trouble in the form of a crying five-year old comes padding down the stairs. The dogs hear her first and Takeshi looks up from his files when he sees Attila and Spock turn their heads in the direction of the hall.

Little Aiko, blanky in one, and pink teddy bear in the other hand, looks at him with her father's big brown eyes. "Where's mummy?" Pushing the files away, Takeshi gets up and walks towards the girl. Once he reaches her, he crouches down and offers her a smile. "Your parents are having dinner with Uncle Umino and Aunt Ami tonight, remember?" Aiko bites her bottom lip and nods, but the movement is slow and hesitant. Takeshi has spent enough time in her presence to know that a crisis is not averted by merely stating the facts, and remembers what Hiromasa told him to do. "Do you want me to read you a story?" Aiko nods again, this time with more enthusiasm and hand in hand, they make their way up the stairs.

* * *

Aiko is settled in her bed again, teddy bear still in her arms, but blanky already forgotten. Takeshi retrieves the book from the small chest of drawers by the bed, and looks for a chair to sit on. Despite Hiromasa's own considerable size, the furniture designer apparently made sure that everything in his daughter's room is a) child-sized and b) made from white-painted wood with plenty of roses and princesses carved into every available surface. It's every little girl's dream, especially since Aiko's mother painted the walls pink and added floral prints wherever possible. There's is a Barbie Dream House in a corner, and apparently, Veterinarian Barbie and Fun Times on the Beach Ken don't mind sharing their home with a herd of pink My Little Ponies.

"Aiko, where does your father sit when he reads you a story?" Little Aiko giggles and points to the floor. The carpet (which has a friendly flower-print too) is soft enough, so Takeshi folds himself together and sits down, smoothing his tie as he does so. He feels thoroughly odd and briefly wonders whether Aiko would mind if he got himself a chair from the kitchen, but then decides against it and opens the books instead. "Daddy always sits like an Indian," Aiko supplies helpfully. Takeshi looks up from the book. "Does he now?" Aiko nods, brown curls bouncing, and Takeshi rearranges himself into a cross-legged position.

"Which story do you want me to read to you?"  
"The little mermaid." As an afterthought, Aiko adds "please", winning herself one of Uncle Takeshi's rare smiles. Takeshi flips through the book until he's found the tale and begins:

"_Far out in the ocean, where the water is as blue as the prettiest cornflower, and as clear as crystal, it is very, very deep; so deep, indeed, that no cable could fathom it: many church steeples, piled one upon another, would not reach from the ground beneath to the surface of the water above. There dwell the Sea King and his subjects. _"

Takeshi stops. "Aiko, do you understand what this means?" What good is a story if the child doesn't understand it? He makes a mental note to tell Hiromasa to get a more age-appropriate edition and waits for Aiko's response.  
The girl sits up in her bed and smiles at him. She still has all her deciduous teeth. "Maybe?"  
"It means that you could not swim to the bottom of the ocean because it's so deep," Takeshi supplies. Aiko gives him a quizzical look. "Mummy says that I'm not allowed to swim without water wings."  
"Of course," Takeshi says seriously, "and she's absolutely right about that." He continues with the story and hopes that his reading doesn't differ too much from the way Hiromasa does it.

"_We must not imagine that there is nothing at the bottom of the sea but bare yellow sand. No, indeed; the most singular flowers and plants grow there; the leaves and stems of which are so pliant, that the slightest agitation of the water causes them to stir as if they had life. Fishes, both large and small, glide between the branches, as birds fly among the trees here upon land. In the deepest spot of all, stands the castle of the Sea King. Its walls are built of coral, and the long, gothic windows are of the clearest amber. The roof is formed of shells, that open and close as the water flows over them. Their appearance is very beautiful, for in each lies a glittering pearl, which would be fit for the diadem of a queen. The Sea King had been a widower for many years, and his aged mother kept house for him._"

"Uncle Takeshi, what's a widower?"  
"A man whose wife died," Takeshi replies absent-mindedly and checks how many more pages are coming. There are quite a lot, and he hopes she falls asleep soon. Instead, Aiko lets out a gasp: "So the mermaid has no mummy? Did her mummy go out for dinner and not come back?" Takeshi's eyes whip up from the page and he knows that he screwed up. Figuring that diversion is the best course of action, he puts the book aside. It's right about then that a suspicion dawns on him.  
"Aiko, has your father read you this story before?"  
Aiko looks at him out of her big eyes and he can tell that she is afraid that her mother won't come back. He can also tell that the little miss tricked him into a reading a story her father saved up for a later age. "Daddy tells me all about the fish and their furniture and the mermaid's magical chest of drawers."  
Magical chest of drawers, of course. Aiko blinks and a big, fat tear forms in her left eye. "When's mummy back?" Takeshi briefly contemplates calling Makoto's cell to ask them how the magical drawers story goes and also to assure Aiko that no, her mother won't stay at the restaurant forever. Then he remembers that he left his mobile phone downstairs and while Attila is impeccably trained, the dog does not know how to play fetch with a phone.

* * *

Takeshi has no siblings, no younger cousin, and as far as he can remember (and his memory is excellent), he has never been read a story himself. Aiko is the first child that he's ever been in touch with and right now, that and his lack of fairy tale experience constitute a problem. Takeshi wishes for Minako, who lives and breathes Disney movies, and Minako, who is having dinner with her mother, probably wishes for him, but that's not going to help now.  
Shoulders squared, Takeshi faces the problem heads on. "Aiko, your parents will be back around eleven, twelve at the latest. I promise you they won't stay at the restaurant forever and I wouldn't lie to you, would I?"  
Bottom lip quivering, Aiko looks miserable and doesn't answer.  
"How about I read you another story until they get back?" That earns him another nod, but the little face doesn't go back to happy. Takeshi looks around the room and spots a book that is so luridly pink and green that it cannot possible contain a single scary thing. He reaches for it and opens it. Part of him dies then and there. "Bubble, the happy flower," he reads out, and hopes that Bubble knows how to make children so happy that it makes up for the horrible artwork the book contains. "_Once upon a time, Bubble had a birthday._ Look Aiko, birthdays are nice. Let's see what else happens. _Bubble's birthday was in spring, and he invited all his friends. They brought cake, and Bubble said: 'I love cake,' and was very happy._" Takeshi turns the book around so that Aiko can see how happy Bubble The Flower is, but Aiko pushes the book away and mumbles with all the resolution that a child can have (which is to say: a lot): "I want the Mermaid."

Her eyes stray to the book by his side, and Takeshi, who now knows not to read a child stories from a book with a plain brown cover, reaches for it again. Aiko rewards him with a beaming smile, and he sighs, but just a little. He knew from the start that this was a bad idea: he's completely out of his depth. If he reads the story, the whole motherless part will keep Aiko awake and if he doesn't, him not reading the story will do the same.

He flips the book open again and skims over the words on the page. He has heard bits and bobs of the story somewhere, so it's not completely unfamiliar. He forgot the end though, so he flicks to the last page and reads it, silently.  
_The Mermaid bent down and kissed his fair brow, then looked at the sky on which the rosy dawn grew brighter and brighter; then she glanced at the sharp knife, and again fixed her eyes on the prince, who whispered the name of his bride in his dreams._  
His pale brows arch upwards: Aiko would never ever sleep again.

Resolutely, he turns back to the beginning of the story, flicking the pages back so that Aiko knows that it's the mermaid story she's going to get, and then, completely ignoring what's written, begins.

"Under the ocean lived a mermaid. She lived in a beautiful palace made from white marble and every morning, her mother, who is very much alive, braided her hair." He looks up and waits for Aiko to tell him that the mother is dead, but the little one doesn't seem to mind the shift in the narrative. "After the mermaid and her mother spent some time together, the mermaid went to say hello to her father, who was building a new throne." Aiko nods: she knows that daddies are good at making furniture.  
Now comes a crucial part: "Her father, who knew all about the magical chest of drawers, said to the mermaid: dear child, swim to the surface and find me a big piece of driftwood, so that I can make you another magical piece of furniture." Another glance at the child reveals that Aiko has now sunk a little lower in her bed, blanket drawn up to her should and thumb on the way to her mouth. Takeshi breathes a little sigh of relief: she seems to have accepted that this magical furniture story is going to be a bit different from the one Hiro always tells her.

Turning a page as if he was still reading from the book, he continues, voice deep and clear.  
"The little mermaid swam to the surface - her water wings carefully fastened to her arms - where she met the prince in a ship. She said: 'Prince, I need some driftwood,' and then the prince gave her some because he loved her and would marry her once she reached the legal age of consent. The mermaid took the wood back under the sea-" This is when Takeshi realises that this is utter nonsense: the wood would rot under the wood; clearly Hiromasa hasn't thought this through at all.

A little drowsy, Aiko says: "And then?"  
Clearing his throat, Takeshi decides to ignore the impracticality of Hiro's storytelling and fishes for the next part of the story. "Well, then the king made his daughter another magical piece of furniture."  
The voice is almost nothing but a tired whisper now. Victory is on the horizon. "What kind?"  
This one Takeshi knows, and smiles. "A desk. A magical desk from cherry wood."

* * *

Makoto and Hiromasa return from their dinner and find Takeshi in the living-room, pouring over some documents or other. Kicking off her heels, Makoto gives Takeshi a friendly wave and immediately makes her way up the stairs to check on her daughter while Hiromasa joins his friend in the living-room. Spock wakes up and trots over to greet his owner. Hiro immediately begins to ruffle the soft fur behind Spock's long ears. Daughter still alive, dog still alive: Takeshi did well.  
"How did it go?" he asks anyway.  
Takeshi gives his friend a stern look and a piece of paper with his usual messy handwriting on it. Abandoning Spock's ears, Hiro accepts the note and brings it closer to his eyes. He still can't read that scrawl.  
"What's that?"  
Packing up his laptop computer and his notes and documents, Takeshi answers. "That's a list of age-appropriate and non-scary fairy tales for children. And because I don't believe adults who agree to babysit for you deserve to be tortured, Bubble The Insipid Flower is not on it."

* * *

_The End_


End file.
